


Cold

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: The chronicles of Teddy and James [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cold, Excessive Drinking, M/M, POV Second Person, Pub Crawl, Puddlemere United, Quidditch, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two little words and your anger is dissolving and you’re heaving a sigh because the last thing you really want to do is listen to Teddy list all of the reasons that you can never be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> My first forray into the world of Teddy/James.  
> Pub-related details borrowed from World's End.

Your mobile is vibrating on the bedside table and you’re steadily ignoring it because you are currently caught in the middle of dreamless sleep. It stops for a little while, but then it starts up again and eventually the unnerving sound of coins vibrating across a flat surface invade your sleep. Blindly you reach out, fumbling a bit before you fingers close around the thing and snatch it up. When you roll over onto your back you peer up at the illuminated screen and you squint because you are still really only half-awake.

 

It’s a text message.

 

In the middle of the night.

 

_Are you awake?_

 

You sigh heavily as you peer at the three-word story and you tell yourself that you are not going to call; but you do anyways.

 

“It’s three in the morning, Teddy. You better be fucking _dying._ ” Your voice is garbled and sleepy and you sigh again, reaching up to press your knuckles into closed eyelids.

 

“Jamie, hi! Did I wake you?” He sounds awfully chipper for three in the morning and you groan inwardly because you realize that you are never going to get back to sleep.

 

“Yes you woke me, what do you want?” You probably sound ruder than you mean to, but in your defense, it’s late and you’re tired and you have practise in just a few short hours.

 

“Nothing, just wanted to hear your voice.” He sounds entirely too happy to be sober and you don’t miss the tiniest slur at the end of his words.

 

You’re glaring up at the ceiling that you cannot quite see and it takes you a long moment to compose yourself. You love Teddy and you don’t want to hurt him, but if you don’t take a minute to _think_ about what you are going to say next, you’ll be sorry tomorrow.

 

“Then come to Dorset and you can hear it in person.” You groan inwardly as the pitiful request leaves your mouth and you steady yourself because you already know what he’s going to say. He’s said it so many times before…

 

“Jamie, you know I can’t. Your father—“ The happiness is suddenly sucked right out of his tone as he replies, and his voice is like razorblades in your ear.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. My father has been so good to you and you can’t disgrace him like that. Same old tune, Teddy.” You cut him off before he even finishes and it’s not because you want to be cruel so much as you can’t stand to hear another excuse.

 

Teddy has been spinning this played out song for the better part of four years now and as much as it kills you every time he rejects you, you just can’t give him up.

 

“Don’t be like that, James. You know I would if I could.” You can tell he’s on the verge of crying and it’s a sick satisfaction inside of you that is glad he’s the one hurting for once.

 

“Goodnight, Teddy.” Is your only reply and then it is over. You toss the mobile back on the bedside table and proceed to stare up at the ceiling for the remainder of the night.  In the morning you feel like shit and you curse Teddy in your head for the entirety of your team practise.

 

Your earliest memory of Teddy is of a five year old you sitting on a nine-year-old Teddy’s back and tugging at his blue hair. You can’t really remember the context or the feeling behind the moment or what was even happening, but the image is there. Burned into the back of your mind; the very first recording of your love for Teddy Lupin.  The two of you were closer than you were with your real siblings, and your family always joked about the two of you being joined at the hip. Teddy always made you feel special and never got _too_ mad at your practical jokes. He has always been a constant presence in your life and you often felt like he was the guardian of your other half; the better half, if we’re being honest. As you grew, your fondness for the older boy grew as well, and by the time you were thirteen, you knew that the way you felt about Teddy was _definitely_ different from the way you felt about everyone else. You kept your feelings to yourself for a long time and although the time you spent with him often felt like tiny knives in the palms of your hands, you still wanted nothing more than to be near him; to share a bed or a laugh or a playful embrace.

 

You were fifteen when you confessed to him one night in the sitting room when you were supposed to be sleeping. You weren’t exactly the shy type and you didn’t think twice about spilling your guts and laying it out for him. To say that Teddy was taken by surprise would be an understatement. You laughed at him when he turned as white as a ghost, right down to the tips of his unruly hair. You would never know that he wasn’t quite as blindsided as you think he was; you aren’t exactly subtle and Teddy likes the attention. By the time you crawled back into bed that night, Teddy had let you down gently and awkwardly patted your shoulder and you wanted to die.

 

You didn’t see Teddy much after that and although you tried not to think about it, you knew that he was avoiding coming over because of you. When he started dating your cousin Victoire, you told yourself that it was just a passing thing and it bruised your ego just enough to want to try harder because you are James Potter, and you _always_ get what you want.

 

When you were sixteen you cornered Teddy in the garden during winter holiday from school. You were nearly as tall as he was now, and could finally look him in the eyes properly. His hand on your chest as he gently rejected you felt like you were burning up, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was avoiding looking directly at you. When you returned to school after the New Year you told yourself that you had to forget about Teddy; but you couldn’t and it kills you every single night when you lie down to sleep.

 

Seventeen was a busy year for you and by the time you graduated Hogwarts, you were already on the roster for Puddlemere United Reserve. You were a rising star with opportunities at your fingertips; you could have had anyone you wanted. Except the one you really _did_ want. 

 

When you left home for Dorset you told yourself this was your chance to break free from the suffocating restrictions of unrequited love and it was easy to pretend Teddy Lupin did not exist when you were far away from home and surrounded by teammates that you did not yet know. What you weren’t counting on was how difficult the reality of separation truly was, and despite your best efforts to get on with your life, you still found yourself dreaming about blue hair and easy smiles every time you closed your eyes.

 

You threw yourself into your team and practise because you were determined to see your name off of the reserve list and on the active roster. Quidditch was everything to you and it was easy to forget the rest when there weren’t any reminders to distract you.  In the spring Sebastian joined the reserve team and you were thankful for the piece of home that wasn’t _too_ much like home. It was easy to lose yourself within your new life in Dorset with a partner in crime at your side, and soon enough you were abandoning your early nights in, for after hours pub-crawls.

 

You were leaving The Trusty Servant when you saw him; and it was a very good thing that your arm was slung around Sebastian’s neck because you were drunk enough that you just might have fallen down.

 

His hair wasn’t blue, but it didn’t matter. You’d know Teddy anywhere with any color hair.

 

He was standing in the street looking like he was lost and stupidly sober when he spotted you, and the way his face lit up shattered your heart into a million little pieces. You wanted to be cross with him for showing up like this but as it turns out, your were entirely too drunk to be anything but overjoyed.

 

“Oi, Teddy!” You were shouting louder than was necessary and waving wildly but you hardly cared and as he made his way over, Sebastian whispered something vulgar about metamorphs in your ear that earned him a sharp elbow in the gut.

 

“One of your teammates said I might find you here.” He smiled almost bashfully as he closed the distance between you and the way he had his hands shoved into his pockets made you love him more than you ever had before.

 

“Well, we’re drinking and now you’re drinking. Let’s go.” You quickly hook your free arm around his neck and set off towards the next pub before he can protest, and you can feel the heat pulsing off of him beneath his clothes.

 

The Two Headed Dog was three pubs down the line, and by the time your little entourage made it there, you knew you had never felt so good in your life. Hell, even Teddy looked like he was having a good time, which was quite a chore considering how pained he always looked when he was around you.

 

“Why are you here?” You lean over to ask him when Sebastian excuses himself to the gents. Your elbows are pressed against the small table between you and they are doing an excellent job of holding you up. Being drunk makes it easier to be around Teddy and you store that information away for all future engagements that require you to be within close proximity of him.

 

“I don’t know…I wanted to see you, you haven’t been home for so long.” He was stumbling on his words just enough that it was endearing, and you find yourself smiling at him from your side of the table.

 

“But why? You’ve been absolutely aces at avoiding me for years. Coming all the way to Dorset seems like a step in the wrong direction.” You force out a faint laugh and you sober slightly, although your questioning gaze never leaves him. 

 

“I just needed to see you.” His voice drops considerably when he speaks and you don’t even realize you are staring at him so intensely that you might burn holes in him. You want to understand his cryptic explanation but you don’t, and it scares you just a little bit.

 

After that Teddy attempts to change the subject by trying to make small talk, although it really only serves as a steady reminder that Teddy is no good at awkward small talk.

 

By the time you head back to the private dorms it’s later than respectable and you are not entirely sure which of you is more intoxicated. It should feel strange allowing Teddy to enter your dorm room with unspoken promises of sharing a bed like you are children again, considering the history there, but it doesn’t. Nothing about Teddy has ever felt strange and although you are infinitely pleased that he is here with you, you are also very happy that you just might be drunk enough to forget it in the morning.

 

“Do you remember when we had that talk?” Teddy is standing with his back up against the closed door and he’s watching you in a way that makes your skin itch. He’s made a fucking habit out of _not_ watching you at all and now that he was, it seemed almost too much to take.

 

“Which talk? The one where you broke my heart or the one where you broke my heart?” You don’t mean to sound so cruel and you suppose that tomorrow you can blame it on the alcohol, but that’s not really it at all. Teddy has made a sick habit of hurting you and you know that it is never his intention, but he does it so often that you can’t help but lash out.

 

“Jamie…James. You know I could never hurt you.” Teddy looks stricken by your words and you instantly want to take them back because no matter how much unintentional pain he sends your way, you never want him to look as broken as you feel.

 

“But you do Teddy, don’t you get it? “ Your brows knit together as you backtrack to the door and stop short just a little too close to him. You stare at him for a long moment that does nothing for the silent torture that being around him does to your insides and you suddenly feel a little sick. “You know, I thought this move would be good for me. I actually thought that if I put enough distance between us that I could forget you and move on with my life.” You laugh at your own words because they sound so fucking childish, but now that you’ve started you can’t seem to stop. “…And then you turn up here. How do you think that makes me feel, Teddy? Did you even stop to consider what you would be doing to _me_?” Your voice has taken up a sharp edge that you can’t seem to quell and your insides are burning hot with every ounce of anger and frustration that you’ve ever shoved down into your subconscious. You feel awful for unloading on him even though you tell yourself that he brought it on himself, and when he looks at you just like that, your anger shatters into a million shards at your feet and you turn away because looking at him hurts.

 

“James.” His voice is like silk in your ear and when a warm hand rests against your shoulder an involuntary shiver races down your spine and you want to die. 

 

“Jamie, look at me.” He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck and smell the faintness of ale on him. His presence is like a sorely missed reminder of why you love him and you close your eyes because maybe you just want to pretend for a minute that he loves you back.  When you do finally turn around he’s watching you with eyes that are all heart and you stare stupidly at him because you are too scared to say anything that might break the spell of the moment.

 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers and then his palm is resting against your cheek and as much as you try and resist nuzzling into the comforting touch, you do it anyway.

 

You want to tell him to stop; to stop touching you like he cares for you beyond the cut and dry rules of a brother, but you can’t because you’re selfish and stupid and so you sigh softly instead and silently wish he never stops.

 

He’s watching you behind a gaze that you have never been able to wrap your head around and you aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol, or your own stupid wishful thinking, but you convince yourself that you see something there; dancing just beyond eyes that are a little too dark. Something shifts inside of you and suddenly you feel fifteen all over again and as much as it kills you to have him so close, you cannot stop yourself from kissing him.

 

What you don’t count on is Teddy kissing you back.

 

It takes a fraction of a second for you to realize that he’s not going to push you away with some lame excuse about your father and you take the opportunity and run with it. His lips are delicate against yours and his tentative touch shatters you in every possible way. Your arms find their way around his neck and it doesn’t take very long at all before he’s clamping like a vice around your middle and holding you so tight that you might suffocate if you stopped long enough to try and breathe.  Your insides are a swirling vortex of childhood angst and love and your overwhelming need for his touch and when your chest hitches sharply, you can only kiss him harder.

 

 

When you shove him firmly against the back of the door he lets you and you greedily devour the soft gasp of surprise that escapes his mouth into yours.

 

Your body is running on pure adrenaline and spurred by quickly elevating need and your mind is frantically trying to keep up; to commit every second of this moment to memory because you are frightened that this is only a dream. His fingers are twisted into the back of your jumper like an anchor and there are so many things you want to say to him but the words get caught in your throat. His gentle kisses are like singular drops of fire that ignite every inch of you and you are desperate for more. You grapple at the t-shirt he wears because you are impatient and you want to touch him without restrictions. He laughs softly in your ear and says something that you can’t quite make out over the sound of the buzzing in your ears and when your fingertips trace over the flat surface of his abdomen you think you can die happy because it is better than any dream you’ve ever had about him.

 

Teddy takes his time with you like he never wants the moment to end and when he lies you down on your bed you feel more naked and vulnerable than you ever have in your entire life. He’s hovering over you on all fours, drinking in the sight of you and you want to ignore the hint of sadness you can still see behind his gaze because it’s not supposed to fucking be like that. His mouth maps and charts the plains and territories of your body and you know that you will never feel as good as you do with him tonight.

 

It’s not like you’ve been saving yourself for Teddy; you aren’t quite that pathetic. Your time in Dorset has proven useful in more ways than one because there is always some bloke in a pub who doesn’t care if you slip out of his bed in the middle of the night and never call—You never call. 

 

His teeth catch your skin and you hiss softly and squirm beneath him impatiently. When the tip of his tongue traces a wet line down the center of your chest you can’t help but wonder how long Teddy has been hiding this side of himself and then you don’t think about anything at all beyond the pleasurable distraction of his mouth wrapped around your cock. It is right about here when your entire world begins to shift and crumble and you cling to the bed sheets and you cling to Teddy because you are terrified that you don’t really exist at all.  The way he kneels between your parted thighs reminds you of a house of worship and if you could actually form words around the swelling mass in your chest, you would certainly make a comment about his bended knees at your own private alter.

 

His mouth is white-hot and entirely too experienced for you to believe this is a one-off and later, you would wonder exactly what happened between Teddy and Victoire and why he changed his mind about you. When you come it his mouth it feels like what you imagine a heart-attack feels like and when he leans up and kisses you he tastes like stale beer, the lingering saltiness of your own undoing, and home.

 

When you wake up the sun is peeking through a slit in the curtains and you groan because you head feels like it’s occupied by a very large muggle jackhammer. You feel sticky and hung over and… _naked_. When you finally manage to sit up you confirm that you are indeed sans clothing and you stumble into the bathroom for a piss and something for your head. 

 

The potion tastes like hippogriff arse but it instantly relieves the pain and you feel somewhat more human. In the shower you ponder exactly how drunk you were the night before and it’s right in the middle of shampooing your hair that your memory of Teddy in your room kicks in and you stand there gaping stupidly for so long that soap bubbles slide into your eyes and sting so bad that you curse for several minutes.

 

_Teddy_

 

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed with a towel around your waist and trying to piece together the night before. Your gaze cuts to the closed door of your room as you recall how his body felt when it was trapped between you and the hard wall. When your attention turns to the bed you wonder if it really was just another dream and it’s easier to believe than to face the truth and the emptiness of your room.

 

For a long time you stare at the mobile in your hands and you are seriously torn between ringing him up and just sending a text that says _fuck you._ In the end you do call him and when he picks up he sounds much worse off than you.

 

“Hello James.” He sighs heavily on his end and you can practically _see_ the regret in his eyes.

 

“What the hell, Teddy. Where are you?” To say that you are pissed is an understatement and it is more than clear in the sound of your voice.

 

There is silence on the line for longer than you can take and you really wish he were still here so you could punch him in his stupid, beautiful, annoyingly perfect face.

 

“I’m…back in Surrey James, I’m sorry.” His voice cracks when he speaks and you feel sick all over again.

 

There are so many things that you want to say to him at that moment but your head sags with the weight of too many emotions.

 

“You snuck out of my bed in the middle of the night and went home?” The disbelief is practically screaming in your voice and you are seriously struggling to _not_ lose it.

 

“James, listen…” His voice is so quiet it kills you inside and you don’t want to fucking hear it.

 

“No _you_ listen, Teddy. Am I a joke to you? A stupid kid that you can toy with when you’re bored and then dump like a one night stand?” You’re pulse is pounding in your ears and screaming against your chest and you think you might throw up or throw your mobile across the room if he says something stupid.

 

Which of course he does.

 

“You’re not a joke, James. Don’t you know me better than that? What happened last night was a mistake, and I just thought it would be best if I was gone before you woke up. This…whatever it is between us can’t happen. Ever again. I’m sorry.” He sounds broken and you can hear the tears he’s trying to hide behind talking too much and you don’t care.

 

“No, I guess I don’t know you at all, Teddy.” Your eyes sting with tears that you refuse to cry and you hang up on him because if you have to listen to the sound of regret and shame in his voice a second longer, you will die.

 

Two weeks pass before he contacts you.

 

The sound of your mobile vibrating on the bedside table interrupts your sleep and when you reach for it you instantly regret it. “Fuck.” You mutter under your breath as you stare at Teddy’s text.

 

_We need to talk_

It’s four words this time, should you be impressed? You snort at the screen and toss the mobile back on the table because there is no way in hell that you are going to call him this time. When it vibrates again you curse in the darkness and snatch up the stupid thing and glare angrily at the screen.

 

_Please Jamie_

 

Two little words.

 

Two little words and your anger is dissolving and you’re heaving a sigh because the last thing you really want to do is listen to Teddy list all of the reasons that you can never be together. When you dial him up you close your eyes and brace yourself and you wonder how much rejection one person can take before they crack.

 

“Jamie?” Teddy sounds annoyingly happy that you’ve called and you are still so pissed at him that you don’t respond any further than a snort and an eye roll that he cannot see.

 

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” You can tell he smirking on the other end of the line and you’ve seen him wearing that expression so many times that it stings.

 

“What do you think?” You ask and your voice is low and deadly to the point.

 

“I was stupid, let me make it up to you. Please?” You _want_ to tell him to go fuck himself because you’d like to think you aren’t stupid enough to fall for a line as pathetic at that, but you don’t and you say nothing instead.

 

“I’m really sorry Jamie, please forgive me?” If you weren’t so angry you might have questioned why he was being so insistent, but that realization doesn’t come until much later.

 

“Fine.” You grind out through grit teeth and you can already feel your anger slipping away.

 

“Hey Jamie?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Let me in, I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

 

It is right about here that you are struck with a temporary panic because as much as you would like to see him, you know it is the last thing you need.  You’ve always been absolute shit at self control and even worse at denying Teddy, which is why you slide out of bed in the dark and cross the room to the door. When you open it he’s standing there shivering and his smile is so ridiculously large that you find it increasingly difficult to remain upset with him.

 

“What are you doing here, Teddy?” You ask him as you try and hold the door only partially open, as if you might not let him inside.

 

“I came to make it up to you, didn’t you hear me on the call a minute ago?” He laughs lightly and shakes his head and before you can protest he’s shoving you aside and stepping inside your room. If this were anyone else or any other circumstance you would be ready to fight, but this is Teddy and maybe you are a little bit more pathetic than you think because you can’t seem to say no to him.

 

 

“You’re a real asshole Teddy, you know that?” You’re smiling now because you’ve already decided that you are giving in. He’s here with you now, and as much as the logical part of your brain is screaming at you to put him back out on the street where he belongs, the rest of you wants him to stay.

 

Logic is overrated anyways, ask anyone.

 

 

“So I’ve been told. Come here” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed and patting the vacant spot next to him. You know this is a terrible idea but you say ‘fuck it’ in your head and you cross the room towards him.

 

You stop short just out of his reach and you peer down at him with an expression that you hope is not pained as much as it is pissed off. When he lifts his head and smiles up at you your entire world stops spinning and you curse yourself for being so fucking easy.

 

“I shouldn’t have left.” He says and then he’s reaching for you and when his fingertips graze over your exposed thigh you choke on the shaky sigh that rattles you from the inside out.

 

“No.” You say with as much outward self-control as you can muster and then you take a small step closer to him because you can’t fucking help yourself.

 

 

“I won’t leave this time.” He murmurs as his fingers curl into the waistband of the shorts you were wearing. When he peers up at you from beneath dark lashes you think you can ride the memory of that image for the rest of your life because it’s _that_ good.

 

When he slides your pants over your hips your eyes slide shut and you hope to the gods that he’s not fucking with you because you don’t think you can take another remorseful rejection. Teddy takes your hand and pulls you to the bed and you go because he is Teddy and you love him and you hope that this time he wont break your heart.  You cover his body with your own and you want to take your time with him because this time you aren’t actually drunk and can put up a proper fight if he tries to leave. He is all hands and teeth and you have to laugh because he’s acting more like you than anything else. When you kiss him your heart swells dangerously large in your chest and you ignore the traces of whiskey you taste on his tongue because you don’t want to think that Teddy has to be drunk to be in your bed.

 

When he starts kissing his way down your chest you stop him because you aren’t stupid enough to fall for that one again and when your fingers catch his wrist he just peers up at you with an impatiently quizzical expression. “Come back.” You breathe and then he’s kissing you and it’s so fucking easy to lose yourself when he’s pressed up against you like that, and you do.

 

By the time he’s fucking you into the mattress you are drunk on emotion and sensation and _god_ you never want him to stop. Every time he sinks himself into your pliant form you die just a little bit more inside because you know that Teddy has effectively ruined you for the rest of the world. Sex has never been about love for you before, and right now you are overwhelmed in every possible way. When you gaze up at him through sweaty sections of hair your eyes are blown out wide and you can hardly take it. You’ve dreamt about this moment for so long; Teddy fucking you into next week has spurred on every one of your wank fantasies for years, and when fantasy crashes head-on into reality it brings you tears.

 

Except James Potter does not cry.

 

And yet somehow here you are, right in the middle of the best sex of your life.

 

You can’t even look away from him and you watch him move like a fallen angel above you and you smile as salty tears soak the pillowcase beneath your head because you are so damn happy.

  
“Come here.” He says and it catches you off guard because you hadn’t even been aware that he’d stopped moving.  He’s pulling you up into a sitting position and you are confused and frustrated but you take the opportunity to swipe away the wetness on your cheeks. What you think is Teddy switching things up to bring you closer together ends up really being Teddy fucking you from behind so he doesn’t have to watch you cry, but you wont see it that way for a long time yet.

 

He’s leaning over you with his teeth on your skin and you feel like you are being split right down the middle in more ways than one. “I’m close.” He breathes in your ear and your eyes squeeze shut and you shudder because it sounds exactly how it always does in your head. His movements are erratic and frantic and he when he buries himself inside you a final time the sound of his undoing over your shoulder is just what you need and you come with such intensity that it threatens to consume you in its darkness.

 

Later you will lie next to him on your bed and stare at the ceiling while he snores softly beside you, and you’ll be absolutely terrified to go to sleep because you think he’ll be gone when you wake up again.

 

The sun is nearly up now and you’re lying on your side with your hands tucked beneath your head and you’re watching him. Teddy looks like an angel when he sleeps and it breaks your heart how much you love him; how much you’ve _always_ loved him. Right now you can pretend that you are both children again and you’re sharing a bed like you had so many times over the years. When you reach for him you are careful not to wake him but when you intertwine your fingers with his, he wakes up anyways.

 

“Hey.” He breathes and his voice is thick from sleep and his eyes are bloodshot like he’s not had nearly enough sleep yet.

 

“Morning.” You reply casually and with a smile and when you lean over to drop a kiss to his mouth he doesn’t move away.

 

Maybe Teddy really _was_ sorry for leaving you last time, and although you want to believe that with every fiber of your entire being, there is still a fragment of doubt sitting in the back of your mind.

 

By the time he leaves Dorset for Surrey you have forced all of your doubts aside and you decide that you’ll give him this chance because, why not? You are reckless and he’s willing and you _really_ fucking want this. He promises he’ll call and you practically melt when he kisses you at the door like you’re just saying goodbye for the day instead of so much more.

 

You are sore for three days after he leaves and you ride the highs of sex and love like you’re the king of the god damned world. _Go fuck yourself unrequited love._

A week later you are sitting on the floor of your room with your back propped up against the side of your bed. You’ve been trying to get a hold of Teddy since the day after he left and he’s either lost his phone or is ignoring you; you silently pray for the former.

 

The mobiles had been your brilliant idea. You’d seen commercials for the portable owl boxes on the telly your dad kept in the sitting room back at home and they fascinated you. Of course you had to have them because you couldn’t think of a better way to hear Teddy’s voice when he was back at his Gran’s house than to _actually_ hear it. Of course once Albus figured out how they worked he wanted one too so he could communicate with Scorpius Malfoy when they were apart. _Whatever._ Now as you sat there, holding the stupid mobile, you wanted nothing more than to toss the damn thing into the fireplace.

 

Somehow a week turns into two, and then before you know it three months have passed you by. You would like to say that you hardly noticed and that you are so busy with the team that it was more like a blur, but you can’t. Every minute is agony and every day that he avoids you is like a killing curse straight to the heart. The harder you try to forget Teddy the more you end up pining for him so you’ve accepted your fate and given up trying at all. When winter holidays roll around you respectfully decline the opportunity to return home to your family and when your mother asks you why when you are fire calling her one night before holiday, you lie and tell her you’ve got too much training to catch up on.

 

Christmas is the worst one you’ve ever had and you spend it alone because Sebastian _had_ gone home, along with pretty much every member of the team. You feel horribly pathetic and you don’t care because you know there is nothing that you can do to stop the caterwaul of your own emotions. On Christmas night Albus calls you and you pick up because you feel guilty for not being there with them. He chatters on and on about his gifts and Scorpius and how much dad freaked out when Lily got a gift from some bloke in her year and you are glad he doesn’t seem to notice the difference in you. When he mentions Teddy you are instantly on alert and you casually prod him to divulge more information. When he tells you that Teddy seems down and not his usual cheerful self you smile with grim satisfaction. You are surprised to hear that Teddy is not with the family today and you secretly hope that he is as alone and miserable as you feel.

 

 

When you drift off to sleep it’s late and you dream of golden African cranes with blue crowns that leave scars on your skin with their beaks.  The sound of your vibrating mobile on the bedside table tugs your dreams away like a duvet and even in your half-awake state, you know who it is.

 

_Happy Christmas James._

You don’t even bother to look at it and you roll over and stare at the wall and more than anything you wish that you had never met Teddy Lupin.

 

New Years comes barreling at you like a steam engine and although you are still very much dying inside, you are at least marginally better at hiding it. You join Sebastian and a bunch of your teammates as they embark on a yearly tradition amongst all of Puddlemere United.

 

The Golden Mile.

 

Twelve pubs in one night.

 

Twelve glorious opportunities to drink away your problems and drown them in alcohol.

 

It sounds like a challenge that the younger, reckless you would have dug the shit out of and you are surprised to find yourself in a mood that resembles happy.

 

It takes you and your mates all night to finish the crawl and by the time you wobble into the last pub on the list, it’s nearly midnight and you are so intoxicated that you are surprised that you’re still standing. Somewhere along the way you had lost Sebastian and as you turn around in circles looking for him, the room starts to spin out of control. You’re not panicking just yet; this isn’t your first time being out-cold drunk, after all. A hand closes on your shoulder and there is a familiar voice in your ear and when your legs threaten to give out beneath you, a pair of firm arms circle around your middle to hold you up.

 

“Teddy?”  You say and you squint because everything is a blur.

 

“Let’s get you home.” The voice says and then you realize that it _is_ Teddy and you sag against him like dead weight and allow him to take you back to the dorms.

 

“Why do you do this to yourself, Jamie?” His voice is soft and the warm touch of his hand on your forehead makes you smile, or at least you think you are smiling; it’s kind of hard to tell considering your face feels numb. You mumble something unintelligible that makes him frown and you will never know how much it kills him to see you self-destruct like this.

 

Teddy has been struggling with himself for months, although if we’re being honest it’s more like years. Every since you confessed yourself to him that night that seems like so long ago now. He’s always tried to do what is right and the last thing he would ever dream of doing is hurt his family, which is why seeing you passed out like you were breaks his heart in half. He’s been telling himself for so long that this thing with you is wrong and for the most part he’s done a damn good job of keeping things under control. But sometimes, when his emotions get the better of him or he’s had too much to drink, Teddy doesn’t want to control himself and so he rings you up instead and in the morning he regrets it—Every time.

 

He knows he should turn around and walk out your door because if he leaves now, you will never know for certain if it was really him or just a drunken illusion. He realizes that he is playing with fire every time he looks at you, and yet he cannot look anywhere else. Teddy feels like a god damned moth, burning in your flame and as he stares down at you he wonders what it could have been like if he’d been as strong as you. If he’d just accepted your love with open arms instead of pushing you away and using you when he couldn’t live with the separation anymore.

 

“I’ve really fucked us all up, haven’t I?” Teddy’s voice cracks beneath the weight of his guilt and although he really _really_ wants to climb in bed with you and hold you against him and listen to you snore, he turns away instead.

 

When the door closes behind him you don’t even move; and you wont for another nine hours. You will never see the tears in his eyes or how it kills him inside and when you wake up you’ll be alone and confused. Although you’ll _think_ you remember him being there last night, you will tell yourself that you are wrong because Teddy Lupin doesn’t give a fuck about you.

 

He never has.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I am absolute shit to James in this and I feel marginally bad about it, but he knows I'll make it up to him eventually. ;)


End file.
